


So Long We Become the Flowers

by We_deserve_rainbows



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: (plant flesh body horror), Angst, Body Horror, F/F, Fluff, mossrora!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:02:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28584687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/We_deserve_rainbows/pseuds/We_deserve_rainbows
Summary: Aurora, was a small moon, orbiting a dying plant. She wasalive. Alive with blood and vines and moss.
Relationships: The Aurora & Dr Carmilla (The Mechanisms), The Aurora/Nastya Rasputina
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	So Long We Become the Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> hhhhh not to be gay but fuck oh my god mossrora

Once upon a time there was a small moon, orbiting a dying planet. She glowed with the light of the stars, silver in the sky. 

But, should you stand on that moon you would feel the life beneath your feet, not _quite_ thrumming and not _quite_ warm, but _alive_. Should you kick up the rocks, disturbing the shining dust, the ground would show green. 

Beneath her surface, under the dirt, she was _alive_ with vines reaching over flesh, holding her heart tight, keeping her safe. 

She remembered so little from those times, listening to her mother sing amongst the stars, she danced gentle circles dancing around Aurora, tiny flowers and bits of moss drifting down like soft rain onto Aurora. 

And then her mother was gone, and someone was walking over her surface, gently running cold hands over the petals that grew from veins just under her surface. 

There were words spoken, not any words that Aurora understood, but words that were soft in a way that was different than anything she had heard before. Soft and sweet, not like starlight, but like the cosmic wind in the void between stars, something that should be harsh, should bite, but doesn't. Instead, that new voice pours cool glitterdust over Aurora. 

And for a while, a _long_ while, that’s all Aurora knows. Talking with her, a woman who Aurora learns to be Carmilla, listening to stories and songs while Carmilla tends to her flowers and vines. She would tap out rhythms to songs that no one else remembered on the smooth, not _quite_ stone, surface of the caves where Aurora's heart was. 

Aurora was happy. For a long time she was happy with Carmilla, happy to talk with her about whatever she liked, happy to let Carmilla pour water over the thick moss carpeting the caves that ran through her. No longer a small moon orbiting a dying planet, but a celestial body, creeping vines growing slowly onto the surface, far from her veins. 

She was sure she loved Carmilla, loved her in the same way that she was sure that she had loved her mother all those hundreds of millions of years ago. She was glad to sing with Carmilla at night, carefully twinkling the mushrooms on the cave ceiling, humming contentedly when she reminded Carmilla of the shining stars on a home that she no longer had.

Then it was over. There were no more conversations with Carmilla or songs or stories. Aurora didn't know what happened, or what she had done to make Carmilla leave, just that she was _gone_. Like the distant silver memories of her mother, and then the absence of her mother, Carmilla was here, singing with her eyes closed while Aurora put flowers in her hair, and then she was gone, leaving Aurora alone in this new place. 

She was not where she was supposed to be. She was meant to be in the void, floating in the misty glow of distant stars, she wasn’t _supposed_ to be taken from where she was meant to be. It was cold. Cold in this new place where she was by herself, she tried to call for help, tried to reach vines out to search for something, _anything_. But she received no answer, just a harsh voice, not talking to her, talking _about_ her and then pain, pain like nothing Aurora had ever felt.

Freezing metal ripped and tore through her, wrenching bloody roots out of flesh. She felt moss being torn up from where it had grown, she was being molded into something that she was never meant to be. Muscle tissue was pulled from stone and soft flowers fell, broken and bloody to the ground. She felt vines grasped with unkind hands and rent from her, breaking what she _was_ and making her something else. 

So she was herself. And then she was different. 

Not the ‘different’ that comes naturally, over time, different as in broken and torn bloody, shoved into the shape of something else. That’s not to say that Aurora could _never_ be this, but she _wasn’t_. And it _hurt._

Aurora, once upon a time, had been a moderately sized moon, travelling with her friend, moss growing out from her core and flowers floating up from her surface. 

Aurora now, was something else. 

She was trapped, conscious in something that wasn’t supposed to be her, and yet, the sharp metal and lines of code holding her back when she tried to think were what she was now. 

Cyberia was lonely, lonely and cold and she didn’t like it. 

And yet, things that weren’t meant to be changed that much often didn’t, oftentimes, in fact, things went against the nature of what they were to be what they had once been. 

So it was that Aurora’s self came back, not all at once and not in full (she would never be what she had once been, never again. Aurora tried not to mourn that too much. But as she left Cyberia, once again with Carmilla, she started to come back. 

Flesh grew back, muscle tissue grew, aching and new, from the heart,that they hadn’t been able to take from her. And from the flesh came the flowers. Vines grew from new veins, curling up beams and supports, tiny things, nothing compared to what she had once been. She had used to have vines that dwarfed Carmilla, but she looked at these new ones with a camera, new eyes of metal and wires that felt strange to look through, she saw the tiny vines creeping out of veins and she felt floaty, she felt a little bit herself again. 

Hundreds and thousands of years after, she was growing like she once had, moss carpeting whole rooms, flowers drifting into the hair of the people that called her home. She felt happy, that warmth of love that had followed her since she was a little moon, she felt it when the Mechanisms looked at the glowing mushrooms she grew on their ceilings and smiled, and she felt it when she was able to tuck flowers into Nastya’s hair and hear her hum prettily.

And she grew, and she lived and she loved each person who lived within her walls. She loved the drumbot, who would tend to flowers in the navigation room, apologizing every time he plucked one for his hat, not matter how many times she said it was okay. 

Once upon a time there was a starship, a starship of metal and flesh and vines and flowers and moss, she orbiting nothing, but spun those she loved in circles around herself, keeping them safe. She grew flowers and moss and mushrooms for her beloveds and she was happy.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked it!!!!!!!!!!


End file.
